


The Truth I Find In Your Arms

by MoonwalkingCrab



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Belligerent Sexual Tension, Coming In Pants, Dancing, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:02:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23583547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonwalkingCrab/pseuds/MoonwalkingCrab
Summary: A ball at the Lucid Bastion to celebrate the war's end, Essek's worst nightmare. At least the Nein are nowhere to be seen, he feels guilty enough as it is.Until, of course, the Nein arrive and Essek has to face his feelings head on.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 93
Kudos: 601





	The Truth I Find In Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heidzz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heidzz/gifts).



> Inspired by a wip that the amazing [heidi](https://twitter.com/heidzdraws) shared with the Essek discord 💜🧡

The lights are low, the whisper of conversation that Essek can hear just the same. The halls of the Lucid Bastion glimmer with reflected light, dim and orange like the setting sun so rarely seen in Rosohna. Music floats through the air, a soft sigh of strings, the assembled musicians only just warming up for the night to come.

Essek drifts between half-filled tables, making sure he is seen. He can feel the prickle of hairs on the back of his neck that comes from being watched. Thankfully, no one approaches. 

This ball is a celebration, a joyous event—apparently—the war officially ended, though Essek and so many others know that machinations will continue unseen, as they have always done. There is a heaviness in his gut, though Essek cannot tell if it is apprehension or the guilt that has weighed on him since Nicodranas. He drifts, sipping delicately from the glass of wine he intends to make last all night: he needs to keep his wits about him. There is a target on his back, he knows it, and it was he himself who painted it there. 

Essek breathes deep, slinking back into the shadows that line the main ballroom. He is in danger from all sides, and the few people he feels any loyalty to are nowhere to be found. He doesn’t blame them. He is not worth it. This is his punishment; to know true friendship only to have it taken away through his own prior actions. Essek winces as the all-too-familiar ache of loneliness settles in his belly. He must remain wary, the end of the peace talks means nothing to the likes of him. If Caleb’s words are anything to go by, the Cerberus Assembly will not be content leaving him as a loose end.

Caleb. 

The thought of him only worsens the ache inside Essek. He can still feel the ghost of a callused hand on his cheek, the brush of lips on his undeserving forehead. Of all his few friends, it is Caleb who seems the most hurt, and Caleb who Essek least wanted to hurt. He should count himself lucky for having his trust, however briefly it was. 

Essek has always craved understanding: of magic, of power, of the fundamental threads that weave the universe, but never for people, never for himself. Not until now.

What glimmer of hope there might have been for Essek, he suspects it gone. From the moment he expressed relief at Taskhand Adeen’s incarceration he knew. His friends have their own way of looking at the world, and Essek suspects he does not fit into that. He has seen the hardness in Beau’s eyes, the tense line of Veth’s lips and knows that—to them at least—he is a lost cause.

He dares not think of those who may be willing to think the best of him, after all, he has never been able to do that for himself. 

Research and understanding are important, he is not. 

There is a spark of hope inside him that maybe Jester and Caduceus can still have it in their hearts to help him should it come to that. Essek’s ears twitch up at a ripple of voices growing louder and he glances out from his darkened corner, already tensing for battle. He can see the shadows of the crowd parting and breathes a sigh of relief as the heads of the higher dens enter the ballroom. They, at least, are no danger to him.

Essek sips lightly at his drink, trying to find a balance between the boredom that he has always felt at official functions and the wary tension that runs through him with every stranger who passes near. His face, he keeps pleasantly neutral despite the maelstrom of conflicting emotions that courses through his veins.

It was so much easier when he was alone.

It is so much harder being alone now.

The crowd of guests is growing, the music building in a warm thrum of strings that sounds far happier than Essek himself has ever been. He makes a circuit of the room once more, smiling and nodding, barely listening to the idle chit chat. He wishes he could leave, but there is no chance, given his station. Every murmur in his direction makes Essek tense, cold fear rippling just beneath his skin. He suspects that this, too, is a punishment. Those few scant moments of being at ease around his friends are gone. 

Essek suspects he will never be at ease again. 

Either the Dynasty will find out his betrayal and kill him, or the Cerberus Assembly will decide to clear up loose ends and kill him. He would be better off running, he knows it. Of course, there is nowhere for him to run _to_. His den would not protect him, he knows that much, and Verin—kind-hearted though he may be—would not hesitate to cut down a traitor, even if they _were_ his own brother.

No, like everything else in his life, Essek will deal with this alone. 

In a way he is glad that his friends will not be in danger. The further they are from him, the better.

Another flurry of murmurs run through the crowd and Essek turns, his heart leaping and dropping at the same time. His breath catches, the sight of his friends in their finery catching him just as off-guard as the last time. 

And like the last time, Essek hides.

Ducking back behind the musicians, Essek turns away, letting his gaze drift out into the grounds, the light from the windows illuminating the gardens in a warm glow. He can see people walking, laughing, touching, friends and family and lovers alike, a world away from Essek and his solitude. His stomach aches, though he cannot discern the exact reason why.

The hum of conversation is growing louder now and Essek can hear the sound of laughter. In the reflection of the window he can see Jester, bright and shimmering in a dress of emerald green, gesticulating wildly as she bombards the Skysybil with what is unquestionably a tale of their latest exploits. Essek feels his lips twitch in a faint smile of his own; he wants to join them so badly, but he cannot. They do not deserve to be saddled with the likes of him.

Drifting back to the shadows, Essek takes another drink, careful to keep his back to the wall. The window alcove is secluded enough, and Essek hopes he might be able to stay there a while. No one seems to be looking for him; the Nein are talking amongst themselves and a few others of the Bright Queen’s court. The queen herself has not yet been announced, and those few others who may have a passing interest in Essek have already been indulged with meaningless small talk. With any luck he can stay out of the way and cause no more trouble.

Breathing deep, Essek finally lets himself look at Caleb, a deep ache settling in his chest as he does. The pain is almost welcome: it is what he deserves for hurting them all, Caleb especially. 

The light of his eyes is dimmed in the low candlelight and even from this distance Essek can see the lines around them. Caleb’s expression is soft, his hair pulled back to fall in gentle waves down his neck. His clothes are different again, slim shoulders covered in a cloak of deep burgundy, as rich and dark as wine, the tunic underneath form-fitting and cinched at the waist. Essek can see the outline of Caleb’s component pouch—worn and ragged in comparison to the rest of his clothes—on his belt and smiles; even in the midst of all this finery, his friends remain cautious.

A hush seems to fall over the guests as the main doors to the hall open, the Bright Queen making her entrance with the Dusk Captain, Quana at her side. Despite the end of hostilities they still wear armour, bright and shining beneath silks and skirts. Quana holds tight to her partner’s hand, a soft smile on her lips that doesn’t quite meet her eyes. There is a wariness to her gaze, one that Essek feels all too familiar with. It is a relief to know he is not the only one on edge tonight.

The musicians in front of Essek’s hiding spot start up a gentle waltz, slow and sedate, the music a soothing melody that eases him only a fraction. He sees the Bright Queen bring her partner’s hand to her lips in a gentle kiss before they slide effortlessly together, feet moving in a practiced dance that has them sailing across the floor in a shimmering blur.

For a moment Essek wishes he had someone, too.

The first dance seems to be the signal for the party to truly begin as pairs move onto the floor to join the queen. The atmosphere has lightened, the buzz of conversation flowing as much as the drinks and Essek reaches a hand out to snatch more wine from a passing tray, hoping that he has remained unnoticed. With any luck he can stay in the shadows until it is appropriate to leave. The music, while beautiful, is making his ears twitch, and he has never been good with crowds. He can see the Nein clearly from here, Beau and Yasha sitting somewhat awkwardly side by side, faces flushed though their wine has barely been touched. Veth and Jester are giggling together and Essek suspects they may be planning some sort of prank. There is a stab of panic inside him as Caduceus’ gaze passes over his place in the shadows and Essek wishes for a moment that he had thought to make himself invisible. To his relief, Caduceus doesn’t appear to notice him, simply turning to Fjord and pointing towards the buffet table.

That leaves only Caleb, whose gaze sweeps the dancefloor, his face impassive, though Essek swears he can see a line of tension in his lips. He bends to hear something that Veth whispers and then laughs, eyes crinkling with gentle humour. He seems to brighten from the inside out, the soft smile making him glow.

Essek feels his stomach flutter and takes another drink, swallowing hard. Every flicker of warmth inside him comes with a stab of pain, a harsh reminder of everything he threw away before he even knew it was a possibility. He closes his eyes against the discomfort, blocking out the sight of people at ease together, and tries to tell himself it was worth it.

Now, after so much, Essek doesn’t believe it was. What little knowledge he has gained has been given begrudgingly by people who hate him and are surely already making plans to kill him. All Essek has gained is danger, to himself and his friends. He has lost so much more: confidence in himself, any sense of safety and security, and most importantly, the trust of those few people he has felt a connection with in his miserable hundred-and-twenty years of life.

The song comes to an end with a tinkle of piano and the assembled guests applaud as Leylas and Quana Kryn ascend to their seats atop a small dais to watch the dancers still on the floor when the next piece begins to play. 

This song is more lively and Essek watches with interest as Jester jumps to her feet, tugging first at Beau and then Fjord’s arms. Her eyes are bright, her smile wide, turning down slightly as both emphatically shake their heads. She pouts, folding her arms across her chest before turning to Caleb, who has been silently scanning the room, causing Essek to shrink back into the relative darkness of his hiding spot.

Caleb seems to waver for a moment before relenting, downing his drink in a single gulp and allowing himself to be dragged onto the dancefloor by a very eager Jester. The glowing lights above the marble floor seem to catch in his hair, making it blaze and Essek can feel an answering fire within his own heart, burning him to the core.

It takes a moment, and then Caleb and Jester are moving, spiralling around the floor with so many other dancers. Jester is grinning ear to ear, still waving her hand in an attempt to encourage the rest of the Nein to join them. Beau and Fjord share a glance before they reluctantly rise, complementary in their fitted suits of deep green and midnight blue. 

It is awkward even watching them try to fit together, both squabbling about which of them is going to lead, an argument which neither of them wins. They end up holding hands a good foot-and-a-half apart, circling each other in a way that seems more like territorial animals than dance partners.

Jester and Caleb swing past them, smiling, Jester giving an enthusiastic thumbs up, something which makes Essek smile. He should count himself lucky for having known their friendship, however brief it may have been. He continues to watch, feeling a faint stir of envy in his gut. They are a single unit, a family, so close despite their many differences.

At their table, Caduceus and Yasha seem content to sway as Veth claps in time with the music, shouting encouragement to Beau and insults at Fjord. There is a flash of copper as Caleb and Jester whirl past once more, a faint familiarity in their dance. Caleb’s expression is soft, looking down at Jester with an easy affection that makes Essek’s heart ache. He sinks back a little, unable to look away, much as he wants to. He tightens his grip on the wine glass, his hand clenching into a fist by his side.

Now he is jealous for different reasons entirely.

Caleb deserves to be happy, though. They all do. They deserve to go about their business without their association with Essek affecting them. He has only brought them trouble.

Essek sighs, unclenching his fist, wincing slightly at the places where his nails have dug into the soft skin of his palms to create little half-moons of discomfort. He slowly makes his way from the shadows, hoping to move a little closer to the doors while the Nein are distracted by the music. Still, he is unable to take his eyes from Caleb, and from Jester held in his arms. She bounces and he glides, the flow of their dance charming but mismatched, ending as the music shifts to something faster and Caleb spins Jester out and into Beau’s arms. He grins at Fjord, who seems to breathe a sigh of relief as they move to sit back down, Caduceus murmuring something to them both as they do.

In that moment Caleb turns and Essek feels himself pinned under the weight of his gaze. He gives a small wave, stomach lurching when Caleb rises to his feet.

Essek lets himself float slightly higher, straightening his spine and squaring his shoulders as he moves to meet Caleb. He rakes his mind, trying to remember their last conversation, trying desperately to read the expression on Caleb’s face. He can see the rest of the group turn towards him, Caduceus smiling, Veth scowling, Fjord and Yasha interested but wary. It is only a glance, however; Essek’s complete attention is captured by Caleb.

“So,” he says, trying to project some confidence into his voice, “here we are. Another party.”

Caleb’s gaze sweeps Essek from head to toe. “I see you have chosen to come in your own form this time.”

Essek attempts a smile, glad that Caleb is keeping his voice low despite the empty chairs around them. He backs up a little more towards the musicians, hoping that their instruments will be enough to cover whatever conversation Caleb wants to have with him. “Yes, well, I thought it best to come to this particular party as myself.”

Caleb’s lips twist into something that could only partially be called a smile, his hair bouncing as he shakes his head. He reaches out and Essek’s breath catches. Caleb’s fingers run along the elaborate embroidery of his mantle, touch as soft as his murmur, “I do not believe _this_ is you either.” Caleb takes a step closer, lowering his head to Essek’s ear, the whisper of his breath making him shiver. “The real you is the man who helped with Veth’s spell.” Caleb’s hand finds his waist now, slipping beneath the mantle to rest in the small of Essek’s back. “I saw the _real_ Essek Thelyss in your tears, on that boat in Nicodranas. _That_ is the real you, and _that_ is the man I want to know.” His voice drops, almost impossibly softer. “I have seen him. I _know_ him. And I would like to see him again.”

Essek can feel his resolve crumbling as he is caught in Caleb’s grasp. The music around them is swelling, darkening like a turbulent sea and Essek reaches up, sliding the clasp that lets the Shadowhand mantle slip free and fall to a puddle at their feet. He breathes out his fears and steps them both onto the dancefloor.

“I am right here, Caleb. What do you want to know?”

They move at once, sliding into an embrace so naturally that it takes Essek’s heart a moment to catch up. He drops his Levitation, letting his feet hit the floor and instantly steps into pace with Caleb. The music catches them, drawing them into its grasp, Caleb’s hand tightening just a little on Essek’s waist.

And then they are moving.

The cheers of the Nein are just audible above the music, the pace like lapping waves. It is a push and pull of movement which both Essek and Caleb match, Caleb leads them into a turn, hands quickly switching for Essek to lead them back out. Essek’s heart is light and he glances up, chancing a smile.

When Caleb meets his eyes there is none of the affection he saw turned on Jester.

There is only fire.

Heat burns through Essek and he feels his smile grow as he reaches for Caleb’s shoulder and they switch once more, Caleb leading the dance. His hands are firm, his palms rough in Essek’s grasp. He only holds tighter, meeting the challenge. His voice is low, for only Caleb to hear. “I said we would talk somewhere safe once everything is over, does this seem safe to you?” He steps lightly backwards, following the gentle push of Caleb’s body, though his steely expression is as firm as ever.

“I thought nothing you did was safe?” Caleb teases, though there is a roughness in his voice that makes Essek shiver. “I wanted to get you alone. You are more honest when you are alone.”

Essek tenses, his inner defences rising and he pushes back, twisting in to lead once more. “I am _always_ alone,” he hisses, shoving Caleb away though their hands are still joined.

Caleb only smiles in response, tugging Essek into his arms, their chests pressed together, close enough for Essek to feel the warmth inside him.

“You don’t have to be.”

The tempo picks up and Essek moves with it, Caleb easily keeping pace with his every step. “I told you before,” Essek whispers, “I don’t want you all caught up in _my_ mistakes.”

Smirking again, Caleb, squeezes tight to Essek’s fingers. “Too late.” His hand slides down Essek’s side, firm and insistent, bringing their movements back under Caleb’s control. “I cannot speak for them, but I am already invested. If there is hope for me, then there is hope for you, and hope for all of us.” His gaze softens, blaze to embers. “Do you really think we would abandon you?”

Their dance ebbs and flows with the rush of the music, their movements pushing and pulling like the tide. Essek can feel himself drifting, and he knows it is only a matter of time before he goes under.

“Part of me wishes you would abandon me,” he admits. “I know how to work alone. I have no clue how to be with people I care about.”

“We can show you.” Caleb’s breath is warm on Essek’s lips. “We just need to know we can trust you.”

Essek nods, wordless, swept away in Caleb’s embrace. The floating lights are glowing brighter, illuminating the dancefloor, the other dancers falling away as the music continues to build. “I want you to trust me,” Essek says, his breath starting to speed. “There is nothing I regret more than betraying your trust. I would do anything to get it back.”

“We’ll get there,” Caleb says, spinning Essek around as the music’s crescendo starts to build. “Did you get _anything_ you wanted from the Assembly?”

Essek’s mood darkens, not even Caleb’s steady touch enough to blot out his anger. “Nothing. Scraps of research and disdain. Hatred.” Essek meets Caleb’s eyes after another spin, his palms pressed to his chest. “And now after all this I have less than ever before.”

“You still want this knowledge?”

There is something in Caleb’s gaze, that familiar spark of unquenched desire that Essek knows so well. He is dimly aware that they are the only ones dancing now and that all eyes are on their whispered conversation. “I told you before, Caleb,” he murmurs, “I want to know _everything_.” He loosens his grip for an instant to thread their fingers together. “Tell me you don’t want the same.”

Caleb’s chuckle is deep, dark. “It seems you know me as well, Essek.” He is moving faster now, a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead, dampening the waves of hair that frame his face. “Nothing good can come of the Assembly having the beacon. I would much rather have it in _our_ hands.”

“The Mighty Nein?”

Caleb smiles, shaking his head, and before Essek knows it he is dipped towards the floor, Caleb’s hand, strong and steady in the small of his back, holding him tight. “You and I,” he whispers.

Essek has floated for most of his adult life, but never before has he felt so weightless.

A single strand of Caleb’s hair has fallen loose, dangling just long enough to brush over Essek’s cheek in a whisper of silk as he leans down, dipping Essek almost to the ground before hauling him effortlessly back into the dance. The violin strings whip like cresting waves and Essek knows he is lost.

“You would trust me with something like that? After everything? Why?”

Caleb’s eyes glimmer in the glow of the lights but he does not reply. He spins Essek outwards, the same move he had used to pass Jester off before. This time, he keeps holding tight, not letting go of Essek’s hand. 

Essek’s body is trembling, he can feel it, his pulse racing, speeding with every beat of the music, the tempo only increasing as they continue to move. Essek no longer recognises the song, only that his body is moving with every touch of Caleb’s hands. He is pulled back in, Caleb wrapping him in both arms, a momentary embrace that makes Essek feel more secure than he has in a long time. He knows the crowd is watching, he knows they are drawing the attention he has so strenuously avoided, but his heart is light and his veins are pounding, blacking out everything other than the music and the press of Caleb’s body against his own.

This is the first time he has been seen on his own two feet in public for years, and dimly Essek wonders if the court is surprised. That thought is quickly wiped away as Caleb has them turning once more. 

Essek’s grip tightens every time Caleb’s eyes meet his own, the light that sparkles within the blue depths making his breath catch. He knows that Caleb notices because his own hands only tighten further, their feet moving faster. Butterflies spiral in Essek’s stomach, his heart fluttering like so many wingbeats.

Giving himself over entirely, Essek lets Caleb guide him, trusting him completely. The music leaps and bounds, but still they do not lose pace. They are pressed together, hearts pounding, breath speeding.

Essek can’t even hear the music any more.

His pulse pounds in his ears, his skin is hot against Caleb’s own and sweat rises at the back of Essek’s neck. The onlookers in the room no longer matter. The lights have dimmed to encompass only them, a single point of brightness in a sea of shadow.

There is no betrayal, there is no mistrust.

There is only Caleb, and Essek, and the dance.

Strings sing and brass roars as Caleb brings them into a series of spins that would have Essek’s head reeling if he were looking anywhere other than Caleb’s eyes. The beat, their bodies, their heartbeats entwined, moving together in a way that makes Essek burn in his very veins. He simply holds tight, following the motion, matching every step.

They turn a final time, the world blurring at the edges as Caleb pulls Essek in, their breath close enough to mingle. The music fades back into existence in that moment, only to die down to an all-encompassing silence.

Caleb’s face is flushed, his hair falling loose over his forehead, his eyes sparking with a warmth that Essek can feel echoed within himself. They are pressed chest to chest, breaths heaving in time, foreheads shining with sweat. Conversation is starting to rise in a buzz around them but Essek cannot look away, unable to tear his eyes from Caleb’s own.

His head feels light, his limbs heavy. Essek’s fingers tremble when he raises his hand from Caleb’s shoulder, reaching out to brush back the loose lock of copper hair that falls in front of his eyes. He is entranced, defences worn down by the way they fit so perfectly together. Essek can feel a lump rising in his throat and swallows.

“Caleb…”

Caleb’s lips part in a gentle breath and he steps back, still holding Essek in his arms. His brows crease ever so slightly and he glances down, finally breaking eye contact. Essek can feel the world coming back into focus, the faces in the crowd alight with amusement. He glances down as well, and feels blood rush to his already flushed cheeks.

They are floating, both Caleb and himself, hovering just above the ground and a flash of embarrassment burns through Essek. He hasn’t consciously cast any spell, yet here they float, hand in hand.

Essek doesn’t want to let go.

He meets Caleb’s eyes, and they share a smile, still encompassed within the bubble of their dance, somehow separate from the rest of the world around them. Caleb leans down, his voice low. “I feel like we have more to discuss,” he gives Essek’s hand a gentle tug and they both drift from the dancefloor. “Maybe we should find somewhere a little more private?”

Essek glances over his shoulder, taking in the crowd; the Bright Queen seems amused, Quana less so, one eyebrow raised in mild confusion—understandable, Essek has never been one for public functions and now here he is, spiralling around the dancefloor in the arms of a human. To their other side the Mighty Nein look on, wide-eyed, emotions ranging from undisguised joy, to polite amusement, to wary pride. Caleb nods towards Beauregard and turns away, leading Essek towards the gardens and the relative peace of the night air.

Their hands remain joined and Essek can feel the pulsing of Caleb’s heartbeat, in time with his own, just starting to return to normal. Their feet remain a few inches above the ground and Essek does not know when the spell will end. There are murmurs as they leave the ballroom, whispered conversations, but no one impedes them and they drift out into the night air, alone together.

The warm glow of the ballroom shines from every window, painting the ground in stripes of light, little islands amidst the ocean of darkness. The stars shine bright in the night sky—true night, no spells needed at this point in the evening—glimmering bright and cold above them. The air is still, faintly perfumed by the glowing flower beds that line every pathway. The tinkle of fountains in the courtyard mingle with the faint strains of piano that float through the open doors: the sound of a new dance started.

“You are...a very good dancer,” Essek says, squeezing tight on Caleb’s fingers, his breath still returning to normal, a heat beneath his skin that is only partially caused by exertion. He can feel his lip twitch up in a smile, the point of one tooth slipping free. “It has been some time since I have moved like that.”

“I like the way you move,” Caleb says, a darkness in his tone that makes Essek shudder in the best way. “We fit well together.”

Essek’s mouth goes dry, his mind racing with the possibilities. He raises an eyebrow in an attempt to mask his own uncertainty. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?” 

“I, ah, no,” Caleb flushes, seeming to come back to himself a little. “I had things I wanted to say.” He groans to himself, pulling away but not letting go of Essek’s hand. “I am still angry at you.”

“Understandable.”

“But I have hope for you, too.” Conflict is written over every inch of Caleb’s face and he shakes his head. “Are you willing to help us, to make up for everything?”

Essek glances around, making sure there is no one around to hear their conversation, leading them further from the ballroom and into the darkened gardens. “If it means regaining your trust, then of course.” He purses his lips, fighting against the selfish core of his own nature. “There is very little I care for in this world,” he swallows, taking the chance to reach out and brush his fingers over the faint stubble of Caleb’s cheek, “but there are a few exceptions.”

Caleb’s smile falters, his brows creasing once more. “I _want_ to trust you, Essek, but the moment I let go of my reservations I found out the truth.” He leans away from Essek’s touch, sadness in his eyes. “I do not wish to be hurt again.”

Essek’s heart aches and he draws his hand away, wanting to vanish into the shadows of the shrubberies that surround them. “If I had known then that I would know you, then maybe things would have been different.” He shakes his head. “But there is no use dwelling on what might have been, things have played out this way and neither you nor I can change that.” Despite pulling away, Caleb’s hand is still tight in his own, and they still float, suspended together in the darkness.

“Maybe we can’t now,” Caleb murmurs, “but if we retrieve the Pride’s Call beacon, then who knows?”

“You meant what you said, then?” Essek murmurs, keeping his gaze cast downwards, hating the heartache that comes with seeing sorrow in Caleb’s eyes. “You would share it with me?”

Caleb sighs. “There is a lot I would like to share with you, Essek, but I just can’t be sure, not yet.”

Essek nods, knowing that Caleb is right and hating himself for making things this way. They both know that they are drawn together, a gravity too great to ignore, and Essek only wishes things were different. This is yet another thing he has lost thanks to himself. 

“I understand,” he says, holding tight to Caleb’s hand, relishing the touch, knowing that it is only a matter of time before Caleb pulls away and it is gone completely. “I still feel I can help you, though. Will you and your friends meet with me outside of here? I am certain I have information that would be useful to you.”

Caleb swallows and then nods, Essek glancing up to meet his gaze.

And then the spell breaks.

Essek’s feet lightly drop to the ground and he easily regains his balance. Caleb, however, stumbles, falling into Essek’s arms, pressing against him, solid and warm. Essek can feel his breath catch in his throat and holds tighter, knowing that he does not want to let Caleb go. He presses his face to Caleb’s shoulder, breathing deep in an attempt to quench the sorrow that aches through him.

Caleb’s arms tighten too, his breath leaving him in a shaky exhale as he rests his cheek against Essek’s. There is a tremor between them and Essek cannot tell if it is Caleb or himself who is shaking. He closes his eyes, savouring the warmth, the closeness, the world once more fading away as they hold each other.

Eventually they part, plans and promises primed on Essek’s lips.

When their eyes meet, those promises fade.

Suddenly, words don’t seem to matter any more.

Essek feels a rough thumb on his cheek and leans up, his lips brushing Caleb’s in a feather-light touch, a whisper of skin against skin. He draws in a breath.

“Caleb, are you sure we should—”

“No.” 

And then Caleb’s mouth is on his, pressing hard and desperate, his arms tightening around Essek’s neck. His hands stroke shivers down Essek’s spine, broad palms trailing heat every inch of the way. 

It takes Essek a moment to catch up, his eyes slipping closed, his lips moving against Caleb’s own in a slow slide, trying to temper their frantic press. He reaches up to brush tentative fingers through the silk of Caleb’s hair, holding tight for the briefest of seconds in a wordless request for Caleb to slow down. His other hand comes to rest over Caleb’s heart, the steady beat reassuring, grounding almost. Essek has wanted this for so long and now that it is actually happening he wants to savour it. 

Their lips part and Caleb leans down, their foreheads pressed tight together. Essek can feel the lingering sweat from their dance, slick and cold in the night air. He catches his breath, feeling the hammer of his own heart echoed back at him from where his palm is pressed to Caleb’s chest. He leans up first this time, guiding their next kiss into something slower and deeper, his tongue tracing the seam of Caleb’s lips, committing their exact shape and softness to memory. Essek sighs when Caleb’s lips part, his tongue flicking against Essek’s own in a brief dance before he pulls back, teeth gently scraping over Essek’s lower lip.

A pleasurable shiver runs through Essek and he takes the chance to comb his fingers into Caleb’s hair, nipping gently at his own bottom lip, careful not to press too hard with the points of his canines. He breathes in the warm gasp that Caleb lets out, his grip tightening in Caleb’s hair.

Branches crackle as Caleb pushes Essek back into the shadowed hedges, deepening the kiss to stroke over the points of Essek’s teeth with his tongue, a groan forming deep in his throat as he does. His hands slide lower, holding Essek firmly in the small of his back, pressing them flush.

Essek’s breath, not completely recovered from the dance, begins to speed again. Sensation rushes through him, making him acutely aware of every inch he and Caleb are pressed together; their lips are joined, their tongues entwined, chest to chest, body to body. Lightning sensation pools in Essek’s gut, low and heavy. He feels Caleb’s hand slide even lower, squeezing tight at his ass and he lets out a gasp of surprise: he never would have expected Caleb to be so forward. Anticipation runs through his bones, his heart speeding at the thought of something more. Essek wants to wrap himself in Caleb, body and soul—and still it would not be enough.

“Maybe we should find somewhere even quieter,” Essek says, pulling away to whisper in Caleb’s ear, his voice husky with desire. He can feel himself quivering, close to losing balance under the weight of his own want. There is a tight heat in his belly and he can feel himself hardening against Caleb’s thigh. His next words are immediately quieted by the press of Caleb’s lips, the hot, wet, heat of his tongue sliding against Essek’s own. He groans, feeling another arc of sensation shoot through him and rocks his hips forwards, unable to hold himself back.

Caleb groans, low in his throat, a deep rumble of sound that Essek feels more than hears. He moves against Essek, pressing him further back through the greenery until Essek finds himself backed against a wall. They are far enough from the party now that only the faintest strains of music are audible. The plants surround them in shadow, the only light visible that of the stars. Caleb lowers his head, tongue running over the ridge of Essek’s ear and making his whole body shudder.

“Is this quiet enough?” he murmurs, the heat of his breath sending prickles down Essek’s spine. He rolls his hips and Essek can feel an answering hardness pressed against his own. 

Gasping in a breath, Essek tightens his grip on Caleb’s hair as his lips descend once more, sliding over the length of one ear in a slow deliberate path that has Essek stifling his own moans. He has always had sensitive ears, and the fact that it is Caleb of all people laving attention on them is more than enough to break a whimper from his lips.

“Caleb, please.” Essek tugs Caleb back up by the hair, crushing their lips together in a kiss that is far wetter, far messier than those they have shared before. Essek grinds forwards, triumph flaring hot in his belly when Caleb gasps. His hands fall to Essek’s hips, guiding his movements to bring the hard line of his cock in contact with Essek’s, rubbing against it with every slow thrust.

Essek feels pinned by the weight of Caleb’s desire, the cold stone of the wall at his back a delicious counterpoint to the sheer heat between them. He spreads his legs, a gasp of surprise breathed into Caleb’s mouth when he feels surprisingly strong hands lift him entirely, pushing him back to brace against the wall.

Wrapping his legs around Caleb’s hips, Essek groans, feeling the line of Caleb’s cock pressing hard against him. Sparks of sensation arc through him as he rocks his hips to meet every one of Caleb’s movements, only breaking their kiss to hiss in breath.

Fingers fumbling, Essek palms at Caleb’s chest, impatience rising when he can’t seem to find any way to gain access to his clothes. “I want to feel you,” Essek murmurs. “I want to touch you.”

Blinking, Caleb pulls back, treating Essek to the sight of his gently flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. He lets out a small laugh, lust-darkened eyes filled with fondness. “I’m sorry,” he says, “am I getting too carried away?” He lowers Essek back to his feet, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. There is a teasing note in his voice when he steps back, raising an eyebrow. “We can stop if you want.”

Groaning, Essek wraps his arms around Caleb’s neck. “Don’t you dare stop now, Caleb Widogast.” Essek’s voice is a low growl and he takes a step forward, bringing them chest to chest once more. He slides a hand down Caleb’s front, palming at his cock and squeezing hard. “I _like_ this side of you.” 

There is a flare of desire in Caleb’s eyes, the burning focus of his gaze turned entirely on Essek and he shivers. He has seen Caleb focused before, on spellwork, on research, but right now, in this moment, the only thing he has his sights on is Essek. He feels stripped bare, all his desires laid out for Caleb to see. Everything Essek has worked for and wanted in the past, he would give it up in an instant to keep Caleb’s focus on him and him alone. Essek feels a shiver work through him when Caleb’s hands return to his hips, turning him around to face the wall.

“You like this, do you?” Caleb’s voice is pure heat, his lips trailing heated kisses down Essek’s ear once more. “Good.” He drags his hand up Essek’s thigh, reaching beneath his tunic to rub over his cock. “I have never met anyone who makes me feel the way you do.”

Clever fingers waste no time in unlacing Essek’s leggings and then Caleb’s hand is on him, hot and rough, sliding over the length of his cock. His breath is warm at Essek’s throat, his whispers rough, hips moving, clothed cock slipping between Essek’s cheeks in time with every stroke of his palm. “You infuriate me, Essek. Every time I think I have you figured out you say something that has me doubting you.” Caleb’s teeth graze over Essek’s pulse and he whines, bucking into the circle of Caleb’s fist.

He knows he should focus on the words, but all Essek can hear is the roughness in Caleb’s voice, the vibration of it against his skin. “I want to trust you. I want to know you. I want to explore _everything_ with you.” Caleb gasps in a shuddering breath, his hand speeding, his cock a line of pure heat against Essek’s ass and all Essek can think about is feeling it inside him.

“We could do so much together, Essek,” Caleb whispers, his wrist twisting at the apex of every stroke, drawing Essek closer and closer to the edge. “You know it, don’t you? You want it.”

Essek’s eyes are squeezed tight, raw sensation rushing through him under the combined onslaught of Caleb’s touch and his voice. He can feel his thighs trembling, his legs threatening to collapse from under him. Sweat beads on his skin, his hair falling loose to plaster against his forehead. “I want it,” he whimpers.

“What do you want?” Caleb says, every stroke of his hand punctuated with a rock of his hips. He squeezes hard at Essek’s cock, thumb sliding over the head, already dripping with precome.

Essek can feel his balls drawing up and chokes in a desperate breath, trying to rock into Caleb’s hand and feels himself held in place by a steady hand.

“Friends,” he pants, raw honesty in every word. “Acceptance. Understanding.” He can feel the prickle of tears in the corners of his eyes. “Love.”

Caleb’s movements stutter for a moment, his breath a shuddering exhale as Essek pants out the one thing he wants above all else.

“You.”

Caleb’s mouth finds Essek’s ear again, his teeth sinking into the sensitive lobe, the exquisite jolt of pleasured pain tipping Essek over the edge. He shudders in Caleb’s arms, coming hard with a whimper of his name, the wet spurts of his release pattering against the stone wall.

Essek sinks back, feeling Caleb’s arms wrap around him in a warm embrace, his chin coming to rest on Essek’s shoulder, the silken wisps of his hair sending shivers through oversensitive skin. “I want you, too, Essek.” Caleb murmurs. “We can figure this out.” He nuzzles into the juncture of Essek’s neck, breathing deep.

Essek swallows against the lump that has risen in his throat, tucking his spent cock back into his leggings before turning in the circle of Caleb’s arms to face him. He pulls him down for a slow kiss, a languid slide of tongues and heated breath before sliding his hand down to the front of Caleb’s breeches.

“Um,” Caleb steps back, his flushed cheeks growing even brighter. “You don’t need to. I, ah…I already…” He bites at his lower lip when Essek moves aside the hem of his tunic to reveal a large wet patch over his already softening cock, the fabric steadily darkening around it.

“Oh,” Essek says, an odd sense of self-satisfaction rising within him. He glances up to meet Caleb’s eyes and feels the corner of his mouth twitch up. “I’ll just have to return the favour next time, I suppose.” He stretches up on his tiptoes for another kiss. “There _will_ be a next time, won’t there?”

“Of course,” Caleb murmurs, oddly embarrassed for a man who just got Essek off a few hundred feet from a crowded party, it is amazingly endearing and Essek feels his stomach flutter. He pulls Caleb into his arms, casting a quick Prestidigitation to clean them both up. Caleb’s hand strokes over the shorter part of Essek’s hair as their breathing returns to normal. "I don't think I can stay away from you." 

Trading soft kisses, Essek joins their hands together, trying to keep the apprehension from his voice.

“What do we do now?”

“Well, return to the party for a start.” Caleb combs through Essek’s hair with his fingers, the carefully styled waves falling loose no matter how much he tries to rearrange them. Essek smiles, pressing his face to Caleb’s chest.

“Everyone will know what we were doing, you know. There is no point in trying to hide it.” Essek smirks, not really caring what the court thinks of him—it is irrelevant, he knows the direction his future lies.

“ _Scheiße_ ,” Caleb says and Essek glances up to see his eyes widening, one hand coming up to rub over his temples. “Jester is going to be insufferable.”

Essek feels his own face fall at the realisation and bites at his lower lip. “Maybe we just _don’t_ go back? I can take us to my tower.”

Caleb’s smile is warm as he breaks their embrace, slowly shaking his head. “As nice as that sounds, I don’t want our friends to think you have stolen me away.”

 _Our_ friends: the thought brings an entirely different warmth to Essek’s chest and he smiles, letting Caleb lead him back to the garden pathways and the shimmering flowers that line them.

“I hope we can come to some sort of understanding with the rest of the group,” Caleb murmurs, sighing slightly as Essek wraps an arm around his waist. “I don’t want to lose you, not to the Cerberus Assembly, not to anyone.”

“I don’t plan on going anywhere,” Essek murmurs. “I told you before, I have more loyalty to you than anyone else in my life,” he catches Caleb’s eye and squeezes tight, “now more than ever.”

Caleb frowns, his lips tightening as he seems to consider. “And if people try to use our…” he hesitates, uncertain, “...relationship against us? I don’t want to be a weakness to you.”

Essek holds tight, tilting his head up to kiss along Caleb’s jaw. “If anything, I feel stronger now.” He breathes deep as the lights and music grow closer. “We can figure out the rest with your friends. I can stop by the house tomorrow?”

“I would like that,” Caleb says, squeezing Essek’s hand and flashing him a smile that makes his breath catch in his throat.

“Good.” Essek can feel a warmth, burning deep inside him, lighting him from the inside out, a fire that belongs to Caleb alone. “In the meantime,” he says with a smirk, stepping them both back into the light of the ballroom, “may I ask you to dance?”

**Author's Note:**

> All comments, kudos, keysmashes and the rest are gratefully accepted. You can also find me on [tumblr](http://moonwalkingcrab.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/MoonwalkingCrab).


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